


Army of Four

by TheRagdollWrites



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coitus Interruptus, Developing Relationship, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Issues, First Meetings, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Past Leia Organa/Han Solo, Wedding Fluff, rescue dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRagdollWrites/pseuds/TheRagdollWrites
Summary: Five times the mischievous dogs of a happy couple made everything more absurd and hilarious... and one time they didn’t.Sweetly vanilla Modern Reylo, written essentially as self-care after a stressful time.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Army of Four

**Author's Note:**

> Five times the mischievous dogs of a happy couple made everything more absurd and hilarious... and one time they didn’t.
> 
> Sweetly vanilla Modern Reylo, written essentially as self-care after a stressful time.

5

“Why, Chewie… why do you have to always do this? Why do I always end up completely wasting two hours brushing and shampooing you, on days when you have to go and get yourself all disgusting again? Why?”

Ben couldn’t bring himself to even call her back. Not when she’d lurched him completely off his feet and sprinted off, straight into whatever was left of the lake. Very stupid of Ben, to think giving her a wash day before the heatwave broke, and he’d be safe to take her here for her walk. Very stupid… and he looked suitably stupid on his hands and knees in the shallows, green fronds clinging to him and splashes reaching right up to his hair. Refreshing, admittedly - but that couldn’t undo the spectacle he’d made of himself. The dog trailed her leash after her, hopping through the weeds, goading the smaller dog who’d barked at her to come and play. They streaked through the water, rushing one another, racing and dodging and splashing with abandon. If they could laugh, they’d make Ben a nice punchline.

Dogs do not laugh at their humans, being their awkward bumbling two-legged selves. Quite the opposite; they’d be perfectly happy to make idiots of themselves too.

However… a bright, puckish cackle came filling Ben’s ears from behind. A laugh that reminded him of a thin silver chain clattering to the ground. A girl’s laugh, and he couldn’t be sure if she was laughing at him, or just at the scenario.

Drawing himself up gingerly, Ben stood with all the weight of him feeling sunk into the soft wet earth beneath him. Greeny-brown stains ran almost unbroken from his chest down, wet fabric just adding to his self-consciousness - and after a handful of delicate seconds, he caught a look of whose laugh it was… the thought of the ground swallowing him whole felt very appealing.

She was younger than him, but not too much. Her black-and-deep-yellow Lycra running gear all sleek and elegant, showing off her willowy physique, her soft brown hair tied into three jaunty buns, and her brilliant smile reaching right up to her eyes. He’d seen girls like her before round town from time to time, working out as a group. But today she was just with her dog, evidently, and honestly, she seemed happier. She was buzzing from her running session, he could see the self-confidence in her easy strides. Could she be laughing at his humiliation?

Well, would she be if her little knapsack was open at her feet, and she had miraculously produced a small towel, which she was holding out towards him? “Small dogs, man. They think the world revolves around them.”

Ben blinked water from his eyes, pushing strands of his hair around so he didn’t have to make eye contact with her. He eyed the towel instead, distrusting something too good to be true.

“No, it’s not… yours. It’s mine. She’s damn strong. And completely empty between the ears.”

The girl kept up her breezy laugh. “I mean it. Ocho’s the naughtiest little ratbag in the universe. Last Easter he got thrown out the boarding kennel, after he - ”

She snorted at the memory, while stepping closer, close enough to get a better look at his face. And no more words came out… her smile strained, and her cheeks pinkened. Like that’d make this any better.

“Don’t.”

“I insist. Drying your face won’t kill you.”

 _Nice job, Solo. What an excellent way to encounter a pretty girl._ He still refused the towel, his voice terse and hard with embarrassment. “Listen, this isn’t your problem. So you don’t need to get involved. Yes, this is hilarious, but you’re not obliged to react, beyond how pretty much anyone else would. That complete asshole is mine, I’m used to her showing me up. I can keep control of her!”

“Don’t be a jerk, I’m trying to help. And it was my dog that started it, not yours, in case you didn’t care to notice.”

And, on perfect cue, Chewie appeared a few feet away, her fur slimy brown instead of golden, soaking wet up to her withers, smiling a huge unconcerned drooly smile as only a dog can.

“You’re a very bad girl,” Ben retorted with all the assertiveness he could muster; the swamp beast just kept wagging her tail, before barrelling past the young lady, narrowly missing her - her smile didn’t fade. She watched Chewie almost with affection, that left Ben feeling… flattered?

“I… I love big dogs as much as the next person, but I couldn’t have a big dog of my own. No way am I strong enough to handle one.”

Ben at last took the towel, and dabbing his face proved a neat way to hide his sheepish grin. “It’s all about character. Doesn’t matter how big and mean a dog is, if they trust you, they’ll respect you.”

“That’s true. And I bet she’s lovely, most of the time.”

“When she’s clean.”

Okay, maybe it was safe to look her in the eye. Her playful smile was quite undeniably adorable, and as genuine as her wanting to be helpful.

“What’s your name?”

He asked her just as a blur of chestnut and white fur came charging up. The little dog bounced to a halt, and barked, his rear in the air and tail spinning, sending more water flying on both humans, surprising laughter out of them both.

4

Alfresco lunch, and couple of drinks, with the dogs. Perfectly innocent, Rey had been telling herself in the hours leading up to it. Her life was being rather tedious, as his was, but spending this seeming non-event together would be a nice opportunity to unwind.

But… deep down, she never could relax when he was on her mind. He made her gears spin giddily, made her heart stumble over itself, made her pull goofy smiles at inconvenient times. Ben. Beefy, charming, cynical at times. Prone to brooding every so often, and yet, always surprisingly gentle. He didn’t force their relationship forwards, and was always slightly floored at her affectionate ways. It didn’t seem to be his style to be terribly romantic, instead he regarded her with an easy warmth that gave Rey a tantalising glimpse of what a lasting relationship with him would look like. His dark eyes made her insides melt. And, cherry on the top, he doted on both of the dogs. Yes, even her wily little Bebocho, whom most straight men wouldn’t be seen dead cuddling.

Rey fussed over her hair, pushing it around and tying it up again and again with increasing frustration, before giving up and leaving it alone in loose curls around her face. She dug around for a fresh pair of leggings, fixed a handful of silver studs into her ears, and grabbed a long floaty scarf that she could shawl herself with if it got cold. Even if any loose fluff ended up stuck on her, she’d still look reasonably nice. _Stop fretting. You’ve been dating for a while now. Doesn’t feel like it, does it?_

“I know Ben doesn’t mind your capering around, but I do. No funny business. Okay?” She told the two dogs, stern yet sweet; Bebocho panted cheekily, but Chewie just cocked her big shaggy head to a thoughtful angle. Very cute. She’d have both of them under her paw with those perfect melty eyes.

The canine comedians kept up their double-act, residing beneath the table on the terrace of the restaurant, trying their best to be the Good Dogs that the establishment graciously welcomed. Bebocho took turns on each lap, to bounce upon to be petted and nose the table curiously - until the platter of bread and salad and grilled chicken arrived. To the floor he returned, to his dismay, beside Chewie with her Begging Eyes on Maximum.

“Don’t take it personally. I’m like this all the time, I’m terrible at small talk. I learned a long time ago how hard it can be for people to make real connections.”

“No, no, I totally understand. Call it orphan’s logic. I spent most of my life being self-sufficient. Everything I have, I got for myself.”

“I know the feeling. It’s one thing to be an independent unit, but another thing entirely to be content with it.”

The past few months, she’d begun to see past the prickly awkwardness of their first encounter, and saw Ben’s true charms: his self-reliance, a mellow heart that grew fierce at the faults of the world. There was a restlessness about him, well suited to his work: a young tutor to students not much younger than herself. She liked what she’d seen so far - not to mention, his heavy build with unexpected grace, his big hands, his smooth ebony-coloured hair falling just past his ears.

“The thing about dogs, though… they’re undemanding. They never answer back, or break a promise. After I finally left home, Dad wanted me to be nearer to him and I refused. Without Chewie, I’d probably have regretted that decision.”

“Where did you go?”

“Anywhere that’d take us. At first I just wanted to be away from my mother, away from her politics and her sense of duty… I can’t imagine how she’d have reacted to hearing about me sleeping in my car, if just because of how much she’d spent on my education. After all, college dorms don’t let their residents stay over the summer.”

“Did you hate school?”

“Not really. I was the biggest nerd in the block. I’d get up early to do laps around the campus, while the rest of them would be sleeping off the previous night. The most childish of them still hadn’t got over teasing me about my ears.” Ben grinned ruefully at that; the crinkles at his eyes made Rey’s heart flip.

“Well, let them have their cheap booze. There’s a big world out there, Ben. I want to see it someday.”

“Taking the fluffball with you? I can see you biking across the world with him in the sidecar.”

Rey rocked back a little with laughing, the wineglass trembling in her hand. “I wouldn’t be alone with Ocho. But even so… when you find a person who really gets to know you, you’d better not let them go.”

Ben split open a piece of bread with bare hands, crumbs spilling over his plate. “You probably should meet my mother. She gets too protective.”

“You say that, but she probably just wants the best for you.”

“I’m not arguing that. But blood relation doesn’t just magically fix it when you don’t get along great.”

“Oh, absolutely. If they don’t want to care, blood doesn’t matter.” Her bright laugh had silenced like a gas-jet turning off, her smile suddenly seeming forced. Ben blinked, unsure what to say, though he did understand.

The beat of silence broke, at the sound of a silvered plate clanking onto its side - a soft thump of a broad snout against the beams of the table, teeth scraping steel. The last three slices of chicken had barely hit the floor before two hungry beasts had devoured their stolen treats.

“Naughty!” Rey railed at them, shifting clumsily in her seat; she was far too late to do anything, and Ben tried to stifle his laugh, poorly. Rey sighed, and took up her wineglass for another sip - but she was lost for words too, when Ben pulled her plate towards his, and pushed an untouched slice of chicken onto hers from his. While the dogs forlornly licked at the paving stones, their forbidden treats wolfed down too quickly, the humans found themselves trapped in each other’s eyes for a long moment, tempted.

3

“Solo, I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.”

Ben learned a long time ago to let people - including students - call him that without any acerbic response. Solo was his father’s name - yet it seemed to suit the son just as well. An independent soul with a past full of shadows and preferring the company of a large dog over other people… alas, Ben did have his vices, that weren’t destructive. He really was an unusually gentle-hearted lone wolf. He could learn quickly, especially when it came to repurposing aggression into something better. And once he’d learned all he wanted, he’d found himself passing that knowledge on to others - college boys and girls, whom he’d promised would never find themselves as lost and alone in the world as he was, at that age. The students liked him too. He was young enough to be accessible, while old enough to not take any pissing around - being dry-humoured and built like a linebacker, the kids didn’t exactly want to try.

“How distinguished is the difference between Situational avoidance, and Emotional avoidance? Because people’s reaction to a traumatic event can be kind of unpredictable.”

Ben’s large monitor perched dutifully on the desktop in front of him; he sat with a lazy grace as always, his chair seeming too small for his frame. He’d been split from the regular tutoring arrangements for months, frustratingly, but small-capacity virtual lectures and classes would do just fine. “That’s right, Jade, trauma always has a huge impact on your ability to process things. A lot of factors will play a part, and sometimes post-traumatic Avoidance ends up manifesting in pretty weird ways. Sometimes people want to revert straight back to what their life was like before the trauma, taking steps to avoid being physically hurt by that scenario again, and we call that Situational avoidance… but sometimes people can’t process the emotional aftermath of trauma, and build up an unhealthy disconnect from emotions. It can turn into some kind of identity transformation. Chasing more risks. A persona that refuses to ever be hurt again. Of course, it’s hardly ever as simple as that, but breaking down response to trauma is a good first step to understanding it, and the stories we tell each other have loads of examples. Take Darth Vader. There’s a good example of taking on an exaggerated personality. Wearing this great black suit of armour, intimidating everyone around him, terrifying his enemies and keeping his own army in line. But if you’re nerdy enough like me, you might know that the man he used to be was seduced by evil, and he ended up losing everything. And after an incredible fight with his former master he was seriously injured - that on its own would certainly count as a traumatic experience. So his iron lung was built onto him to save his life.”

An inquisitive voice piped up, “Yep. That’s kind of how stories like his become legendary, because they come from something really familiar. The kind of story people will keep telling for years.”

“Of course he’s an extreme example, but there’s something real there, in the act of destroying the person you used to be, in order to become this new formidable, untouchable figurehead. And if you’re even more nerdy, you might know how old he was when it happened. Do any of you know?”

The six faces on his monitor stared blankly back at him, shrugging.

“He was twenty-three. And up until then he’d spent most of his life learning to be disciplined and detached from emotions… sound familiar? We all must know of young men who never learned how to process painful emotions. And ending up lashing out towards the environment that unknowingly made them how they are, and a lot of people end up suffering as a result. It’s a more subtle form of avoidance, but it honestly is a way of avoiding any means to work through trauma. But there are plenty of healthy ways to do it. It’s difficult, absolutely, but it’s worth it. I want you to be confident that you know that.”

The bouncy pad-pad-pad of paws came up behind him, evidently from someone who’d finished their kibble and was wondering what was going on - and Ben didn’t respond to it beyond rolling his eyes - until, inevitably: “hey, Ben, is that your dog? Can we see your dog?”

He responded with slightly artificial cheerfulness, “We’ll see. Now, next week we can start working on Hyperreactivity, and how things like guilt and desire for revenge play a part in the aftermath of trauma - ”

But before he could continue, up jumped onto his lap a rubbery, squirmy barrel of a little dog, all silky white fur patched with chestnut, big round ears, and a pointy, cunning, grinning snout. Much to the delight of the half-dozen students.

“I didn’t think you were a small dog person!”

Ben chuckled, scratching the dog’s ear, “This is Bebocho, guys. He’s my girlfriend’s dog.”

“He’s so cute!”

“Yes he is. And he probably thinks remote working is a dream come true, don’t you, pup?” And Ben got a tongue flicking across his face for an answer. An indignity he would’ve done without, but he’d survived worse.

Bebocho perched on his knee through the remaining few minutes of the class, peering curiously at the young faces, and stayed there while Ben started picking away at some of his paperwork, nose tucked between his knees, tail thumping contentedly against his hip… lasting over half an hour before jumping back down. Ben was feeling the discomfort of boredom too. “Right, that’s more than enough. I need a break.”

Rey was snuggled up in the armchair opposite the workspace; Ben hadn’t noticed her slinking in, having slept most of the morning after her late shift, but she was up now (wearing his flannel shirt? Okay…) The remnants of tea and toast sat on the table next to her, and her sketchpad was nestled in there on the chair with her.

“What have you been sketching, anyway?” Ben asked as he at last dabbed a wet cloth on the dried lick. Rey shrugged, fumbling with a loose piece of paper.

“Can I see? Or you’d rather not?”

She was pulling that winsome smile of hers, shyly turning eyes up at him, as she held up a handful of papers. “No, you can see.”

She’d drawn him. Her pencil strokes were delicate, but becoming. She’d caught the soft concentration of him working quietly, engrossed in his thoughts, and also the astute brightness, the openness she’d seen while he’d had an audience to teach. If Ben was made self-conscious by her sketches, he hid it pretty well. “So this is how you see me?”

“I just drew what’s in front of me. I mean, not every girl in the world gets themselves a tall dark handsome nerd to move in with, so I thought I’d make the most of it.”

Now he couldn’t not be flattered. Pulling a smirk, one eyebrow raised,“Who are you calling handsome?”

Rey climbed out of the chair, and tipped her head at a playful angle. “Well, Ocho’s only completely still when he’s asleep, and he likes sleeping with his bum in the air. And Chewie’s absolutely adorable but she’s not a showstopper… what?”

“Nothing…”

She drew nearer, as if trying to close the height difference between them, even though they both knew she couldn’t do that alone. Her grin was infectious. “Oh, Ben, go on, tell me. If I’ve embarrassed you, just tell me.”

He carefully dropped her sketchpad on the table, and knelt his head closer, as if telling her a secret. “I’m not embarrassed. I’m well aware I turn heads all the time, but I’m not _handsome…_ ”

She pouted. But a touch of his fingertip on her lips kept her retorts from coming out “- but perhaps I just need to learn to see what you can. Obviously what you see is something really great.”

His words made something burst in Rey’s chest like bubbles in a champagne bottle… her hands came creeping up to his shoulders, while he wrapped arms round her waist - the collar of that shirt yawned open at her throat, and the hem came right down past her hips, cheekily hiding her petite figure… but he knew she wasn’t one to hide things from him. Certainly not how gorgeous he was to her… she gazed at him with unabashed, gleeful adoration - almost evocative of a dog eyeing the treat box…

well, she was admiring him, as she’d just proved she did with her sketches… her fingertips brushed softly against his hair, then slid across his jaw, catching against a faint outline of stubble,before brushing the tip of her thumb over his lips… his hand bumped gently against the back of her head, fumbling with locks of her hair falling around her scruffy bun…

Either he pulled her into the kiss, or maybe she pressed the kiss onto him… nevertheless, they didn’t care, beyond kissing… her arms rested on his shoulders, sinking fingers into his hair - while unconsciously he held her by the waist… that felt good, felt relaxed… the kiss was unhurried, mouths soft against one another, blissful - until Rey pressed a little harder, getting her hands firmly round his head and trying to tug him down… Ben tugged on the hem of the shirt, gathering some with one hand, while the other came sneaking up the soft bare skin of her back -

Rey squealed at the light brush of his fingers against her spine - Ben froze for a moment, before stroking big warm hands round her waist… neither of them noticed Chewie sniffing the papers on the table, until one of them had been been noshed down like a piece of chewing tobacco.

2

Sighing deeply as he rolled off, Rey let her chest just slowly heave. Maybe her skin would dry in the air - she could still feel the glorious ache of him in her loins, still feel all his kisses, laden everywhere he could get his lips - but the very air was nearly as sticky as they were. _Too hot for sleep? Indeed. But, too hot for sex? That’s another issue entirely._ Ben had to sprawl out too, feeling unbearably tender after Rey had lavished him, wrapped her hands round so much of his bare skin, hungry and delighted… she caressed him like he was more precious than the most delicate crystal… but there was no danger of breaking between them. They were strong and pliant, and they were soft enough.

She basked in the feeling of him on top of her, him inside her, pushing her to roll and move with him. And she did… he kept the rhythm easing along, and it complemented the high, cracking tone of her moans and gasps, above the deep rasp of his own voice. Crying out with the wonderful ache of it… pushing gently against one another, harder and harder against their supple barriers… until they breached, with a burst of slick euphoria.

And… peace. Groans giving way to silence. Treacle-black, silken silence through which their breaths made lilting streaks. The heat gradually steamed off their bodies, and they cooled as much as was possible, and grew drowsy.

And yet, they didn’t fall asleep.

“Rey, have you ever tried fencing?” Ben mumbled into the dark, laid uncovered on his back with his head tucked into his elbow.

Rey stirred, her head resting by his shoulder and her arm slung across his chest. “Erm… no. Why?”

“I learned when I was still in high school, and for a long time it was maybe the only thing I really enjoyed. But after my falling out with Dad I stopped doing stuff like that.”

Rey propped up onto her elbow, and her free hand wandered down his throat, and on, towards the far side, reaching as far over his broadness as she could reach. She was the earnestly sporty one, they both knew, while he seemed more motivated to burn off frustration, and the impressive amounts of food he could get through. He seemed to just be naturally heavily-built, and used to carrying his weight. Most of the time. Even so, brandishing a sword seemed perfectly in-character for him.

“Well, we should give it a go sometime.”

Rey smoothed the heel of her hand into the soft flesh by Ben’s neck, and then her hand slid down his breastbone, stopping beneath his heart. And as if to respond, Ben reached up and rested his palm at her face. His thumb traced across the freckles on her cheek, and smoothed over her brow, and she nosed into his hand. Her lashes flickered against his skin, and then without warning, she pulled a slight frown.

“Ben… I swear we’ve been together for over a year now.”

His eyes widened a little. “You’re kidding.”

“Well I’m not sure exactly… but while I’ve worked nights I keep losing track of time…”

She settled back down again, sighing at the feel of his fingers threading into her hair.

“Happens to me too. The other day I only just realised summer’s sneaked up on us.”

“Yeah…”

Gently pulling herself up and onto his chest, she gazed lovingly into the dark warmth in his eyes. “What?”

“How did you happen to me, Ben? How did a girl like me end up with a guy like you?”

Ben’s face bore a mournful sweetness. “What d’you mean?”

Rey softly squeezed his cheek beneath her hand, earning a daft grin from him. “I… I’m not special. I’m just me. I lost my parents… but nothing else so bad happened to me. Nothing so strange. Not like you. You and your chequered past…”

“But I’d say… that’s exactly the point, Rey. You never judge me. Never. Not like the other people who’ve come into my life. Certainly not any girl… you don’t brood on what was, you keep pushing forwards… you’re way better at that than I am.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is, sunbeam… you’ve come from nothing, but you’re not nothing, not really… because you can be anything you want.”

As heavy as he was, Rey was strong enough to slide her arm behind his shoulders and scoot closer. “Okay, so… can I… can I be this?”

“You like this?” Ben spanned her hips with those wide hands, smiling until deep dimples creased his cheeks.

“I love this!”

A sparkle in her eyes, Rey slid her legs onto either side of Ben’s hips, brushing her softness against his, startling a gasp from him. She’d only been on top twice before, but she loved it. He tensed, trembling just a little, but holding himself steady as she rolled her hips, sliding his hands up and over the delicate skin of her small breasts. “Ohh… by the way… if you’re worried about, I dunno, being less of a man, because I’m the first person you’ve been this close to… please don’t be.”

Something slightly swollen nudged Rey, its tender head at the lips between her legs. Ben felt heat pooling in his belly, and smirked up at her. She was quavering too, but beaming, a rosy warmth spreading across her skin. _Ready for round two?_ “Oh? Am I good?”

“By my standards, you’re fantastic - ah! Shit!”

She’d stumbled, at the sudden cool leathery nose nuzzling at her leg.

“What the hell - oh, Chewie? What is it?”

Shaggy, tail swinging, joyous, the great dog had front paws on the bed - “you choose your moments, don’t you? You fluffy dumbass…”

The steamy mood forgotten for a moment, her humans wrested her from climbing aboard, with clutched sweaty bedclothes and helpless laughter.

1

Rey’s eyelids were just getting heavier, the sounds of the television muffled. Rain littered against the windows, the first rain for what felt like years… the house had been silent when Rey came in, after a particularly hard drag of a shift, Ben having taken the dogs out for exercise. She collapsed on the sofa still mostly dressed, and expected to fall asleep… but she didn’t. But Ben gave her peace while he dried the rain off the dogs, as they’d barely missed it on their return. She wanted to get up, but she didn’t have the energy. She wanted to grab a blanket, but there weren’t any in this room. She wanted Ben, but… where was he?

Ah, there he was, answering a FaceTime call. Soft gold from the table lamp ran along the side of his face and shoulder, making his outline blur. He looked like a daydream, like something she would want to escape to, when life got too difficult. Bebocho jumped up to curl in her arms, as he’d done nearly all his life - he’d had nobody when he was a pup, and when Rey rescued him, at last she wasn’t completely alone anymore… but life could be better. She knew, deep down… and now, she didn’t have to dream. Truly.

“…but when I called again, they just gave me a passive thanks-but-no. So I guess I’ll be doing it on my own, including all the preparation.”

“But, aren’t you the most qualified person for the job?” An older woman responded, slightly sardonic, from the screen.

Ben wryly answered, “Yes I am. Well I’ve never been seriously addicted to anything, but when it comes to depressive thoughts, I’ve certainly been there. Not that my boss cares. He’ll tell me how brilliant I am and then make me feel like shit again in the same sentence.”

“But you can deal with him, with dignity, and you mustn’t overlook that.”

“Yeah, well… if he’d just open his mind and see that it’s possible to reach out, even to people who come from completely different places…” Ben sighed. But the petulant scowl his mother was well-used to seeing in his youth, had much faded. And advancement of years couldn’t be the only thing to explain it.

Rey tried to stretch out, and found she couldn’t. Up to her waist, she was sweating beneath something large and heavy and… hairy. Chewie came wriggling on her belly up the sofa, shoving her face beneath Rey’s chin, and had a perfect view for licking at her face - which woke Rey up properly. Affectionate snuggles were one thing, but unsavoury breath was quite another.

Bundling Bebocho in her arms, Rey crawled off the sofa and padded across the floor. “What’s up? Is it mama’s boy conference call time again?”

On Ben’s screen, she saw a familiar face, well-groomed even though she was at home, her long grey hair coiled into an elegant circlet around her head. “Hi, Leia!”

“Mama’s boy… I’ll let you have a catch up.” Sporting a mildly juvenile cringe, Ben sloped off in the direction of the kitchen.

Rey plunked herself onto the chair, trying to shake off her grogginess. “Hey! What… and last time he didn’t stop talking about when you had him move back in with you during the lockdown! He said you’d rather he was looking after you than his dad! And there wasn’t any danger of you getting ill, apparently you’re the toughest one in the family. He got all grumpy about it.”

Leia simply raised an eyebrow. “Han and I have always been very different. Ben won’t admit it, but he never really got along with his dad and it never stopped hanging over him when he went off on his own, let alone when he came back to me.”

“I know. He’s lucky, though. He’s still got his family around.” Rey sighed. And Leia pulled a wise smile. “We’re here for you too, Rey.”

“How’s Gary? Still derping, I see!”

Leia brought her dog into frame, a dark grey French bulldog, his long tongue drooping from his mouth. He sat pertly, large liquid eyes peering up curiously. “I think he’s enjoying the quiet.”

“Yeah? My Bebocho doesn’t like being shut indoors. He misses having other dogs to boss around. I bet he thinks Chewie is too much of a pushover. I tell you, there’s nothing as funny as a small dog exerting dominance over a big soft dog.”

“And you won’t find a big softie anywhere like Chewie.”

“She’s big and lumbering and clumsy, but I love her. And she gives better hugs than Ben does.”

“Ben’s never been a great hugger at the best of times.”

The little dog squirmed happily in her lap, but Rey sat quite still, eyes downcast bashfully, and a soft smile tugging her features. “Yeah I know. But… Leia, I’m happy with him. Really happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy, as in, long term, as I’ve been with him. He’s… solid. I trust him. I want to be with him… I want him to be as happy as I am. I know we’ve got something really great, all four of us.”

“He loves you too, darling. Anyone can see it. Have you set a date yet?”

Which startled a laugh out of Rey. “What? - he hasn’t asked!”

“Rey? I’m gonna start dinner soon. But do you want tea or anything right now?” Came a voice from the next room. Rey giggled, hoping the mellow light disguised her reddened face.

“Come to think of it, we don’t really need to get married! But it’d be great if we did, wouldn’t it…?”

0

“Do you, Rhaena Scott, take Benjamin Skywalker Organa Solo, to be your lawful wedded husband, from this day forth, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, ‘til death do you part…”

Rey cast a fleeting glance over her shoulder, unable to help herself. The assemblage of guests was modest, with every last piece of decor arranged with extreme caution, and even her gown and veil were cut to avoid touching the floor, in case an overexcited little fuzzball decided to give the silk a little chewing.

So far, however, Bebocho had behaved remarkably, posy tucked at his neck, and he sat tidily at the chapel door, panting delightedly beside Chewie, bearing satin ribbon and patiently watching the guests as they filed in. Neither of them even remotely nervous, which was more than what Ben could say for himself. He’d waited, for what felt so long, silent, restless… but at the sight of her, resplendent with white and purple roses and aglow with pride, and all the rest of the world melted away.

From the ribbon around Chewie’s neck hung a loop of velvet bearing two bands of white gold, and she came padding up on cue, needing nothing more than Rey’s tiny glance, to bring the rings up to them. Rey watched, proud of their dogs showing off their best behaviour, as Ben untied the rings, and let them be cradled in his hands… her gaze lifted, catching the single purple rose on his lapel, the lustre in his dark locks, the heartbreaking tenderness in his eyes… he saw her fresh beauty seemingly as lovely as the first time he’d laid eyes on her, saw brilliant joy in her hazel eyes, simmering quietly beneath a veil of serenity, yet soon to flare and blaze… that’d come later. Vows exchanged, rings given, and Rey broke out her brightest smile - but as Ben heard his cue to kiss his bride, he was close to trembling… and brushed his lips against Rey’s so, so gently, she was ready to melt away, right there.

Rey’s gaggle of buddies were practically cheering; Leia dabbed carefully at her eyes, her shaking hand held tight by her friend, and though he wouldn’t make a fuss, leant against the stone archway at the back of the hall, even Han had a fulfilled smile on his face. And the two dogs trotted cheerily back up the aisle, oblivious to the occasion, but simply pleased to be around such unfettered happiness. It might not beat splashing in muddy water, but maybe, just maybe, wedding meant humans could get to feel the joy that dogs feel every day.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of Modern AU Ben being a teacher. It’d be a neat way for him to try being mature, being a leader while learning some humility.  
> Also, I came up with a surname for Rey that ties to Daisy’s. I’m that kind of nerd 🙈
> 
> Credit and kisses to YanderePlum and Twitter buddies for the name of Rey’s dog 🤍🧡


End file.
